


The Beautiful And Damned

by x_Medusa_x



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Human Experimentation, Other Character Tags to be Added - Freeform, Talon Mercy, Talon Mercy AU, Unethical Experimentation, Violence Mentions, alternative universe, dark!Mercy, domestic AU, pre recall era, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-10 01:43:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12901290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_Medusa_x/pseuds/x_Medusa_x
Summary: Newly appointed Minister of Genetics, Moira O'Deorain relocates to Oasis, the shining pioneer city in Iraq. Accompanied by her partner in life and science, Angela Ziegler, the pair hope to use their new home to push their research further under Angela's new motto: "do no harm, but for the greater good."Semi-domestic science wives/Talon Mercy AU, goes all the way to recall era.





	1. One: Moving Day

The sun scorched everything it touched, from the reinforced metal of the private jet to the runway it landed on. Nearby, the clear, shimmering water looked treacherously cold in comparison. 

Nervously, Angela adjusted the headscarf loosely tied around her neck. Their steward - a polite omnic by the name of Emmanuel - was carefully stacking four suitcases and two heavy-duty metallic trunks into the back of the sleek car waiting for them. 

Originally, she hadn't wanted to bring the valkyrie suit, certain that that time was done. But the idea of leaving it behind, locked away in storage back in Switzerland didn't sit well either. The staff, though? Well. That was always nice to have on hand, and the prospect of being able to make adjustments to it in the best laboratories in the world had been just a little too tempting. 

The seats of the car were soft leather, the interior of the cab pleasantly cool in comparison to the outdoor heat. It would be strange to be a researcher again, not constantly working in a hospital, but Angela welcomed the change. Her companion had shown her that knowledge and research could be just as important and valid as hospital work. 

Her companion. Possibly not the most accurate word, although they were travelling together, the word didn't seem to fully encompass who and what Moira was to her. Rival, partner, lover, teacher and companion. The redhead was Angela's perfectly balanced counterpart, though it had taken her a while to figure that out. She was definitely grateful that she finally had. 

Speaking of counterparts.

Moira was mostly silent as the car made its way through the shining city, along the highway, through varying sectors until they reached the university and government district. She understood the monumental responsibility that came with her new job, of course, but the perks were nice too. 

Moving from Ireland to Iraq was a big change, in climate, culture, and everything really, but Moira wasn't fazed. She liked the change, the brand newness of the city, the raw thirst for knowledge that was freely encouraged here. The world's best students attended the university here, and now she was part of the governing council of the city itself. She liked the influence that came with the title. 

Most of all, although she would never admit it out loud, she was just glad that Angela was with her. At first, she had worried that the younger woman wouldn't be at all interested in following her across the world, especially with her current less than pristine social circle. 

She had always underestimated the blonde, even, it seemed, when it came to how the other felt for her. She still couldn't believe her luck, so glad that her girlfriend was really here with her, sitting beside her in the car, on their way to a brilliant opportunity.

"Did you see that market back there?" Angela spoke out of nowhere, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. "They had everything! I can't wait to try the local food." 

The redhead couldn't help but smile at her gentler counterpart; it was so like Angela to enjoy the local culture, find the first local market and stock up on produce with which to cook a variety of delicious meals. With the extra political work Moira would have to deal with, she wouldn't have time to prepare meals anymore, so the concept of her girlfriend cooking for her made her inexplicably happy. 

Of course, both women were strong and infinitely capable of caring for themselves independently. They seemed to find, however, that they preferred the other's company. They worked better, lived better, as a pair, in a partnership. 

They balanced each other - Moira was always more than happy to push Angela further in her research, to find her true potential. And Angela? Well, she was good at covering up less than perfect imagery. She covered their tracks when it came down to ethically dubious research brilliantly; she had been doing it for years, since their Overwatch days. 

Whilst Moira didn't care whether people thought she was some sort of mad scientist or not, she knew Angela valued her reputation. She was far better at covering up morally ambiguous doings than Moira could ever hope to be. It worked out quite well, really. 

"It's not too far from the apartment building either," Angela continued, "so I should manage the walk just fine." 

Moira couldn't help but roll her eyes; they had access to chauffeured vehicles now, but it was so typical of Angela to want to walk anyway. 

"I saw that." The blonde added, tucking her hand amiably into the redhead's elbow. 

"You know we have a vehicle, sweetling." Moira reminded her, "it's perfectly environmentally friendly to travel by car now." 

"I know, but you don't see everything when you're in a car." Angela reminded her, "you know I like to explore new places."

That was true; the redhead was briefly reminded of the time she had lost her girlfriend in Dublin for an hour, only to find her poking around in an antique bookshop that the geneticist hadn't even known existed. 

"Just don't get lost." The geneticist smoothed her hair back into neat position, straightening her tie as the car pulled up outside a tall, expensive looking apartment complex. 

"Bah. You lost me, if I recall." The blonde retorted playfully, following her far more serious girlfriend out of the car. Their driver was already dutifully loading their luggage onto a cart for a bellhop. Smiling, Angela slipped the man a few dollar bills. Nobody could ever say the duo weren't polite, that was for sure. 

The bellhop led them into a modern, mirror mosaic decorated lobby, across a polished tile floor into an elevator with an honest-to-god chandelier in it. 

"The penthouse suite is fully decorated, your specifications have been added." The bellhop - a suited omnic almost as tall as Moira - informed them in a pleasant voice. "Cleaning services will come once a week, though you may request maintenance or laundry at your convenience." 

Angela had never lived in a serviced apartment building before. Moira had, but never anything as fancy as this. Both women found it rather overwhelming. 

"Would you like my assistance with your luggage from here?" Their bellhop asked as they left they elevator. 

"No thank you, I think we can manage from here." Moira tipped the bellhop generously as the pair of women began to unload their suitcases outside a pair of heavy oak doors. 

It was only once their companion was back in the elevator and departed that the pair realised their mistake. Their belongings were heavy, and it took the pair of them several trips to get everything through the doors. 

Once their luggage was inside, though, and the heavy doors closed behind them, they could fully appreciate their new home. 

Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one wall, overlooking the city. Angela could see the university campus and the majority of the district from the window. To the left of the entrance sat the kitchen, a modern affair with the latest appliances. A marble and glass table completed the dining area. 

To the right, the living space. An enormous flat television took up a third of the wall, the latest holoscreen technology. Surrounding the screen were bookshelves, already full to bursting with the pair's reference libraries, a few fictional favourites tucked in amongst them. Squashy armchairs and a particularly comfortable looking couch completed the homely space. 

Further exploration of the apartment led to the discovery of a guest room, a guest bathroom, a study with carved wooden desks and yet more books, a bathroom with a large tub, and their shared bedroom. Angela flopped down onto the bed that would become the sleeping space she shared with her girlfriend, peering up at the intricate lampshade on the ceiling. 

It was a far shot from what she was used to, but she found she had nothing remotely bad to say about her new home or company. As far as first apartments with girlfriends went, Angela thought they'd gotten pretty damn lucky.


	2. Two: Dinner Date

Angela must have dozed off; when she opened her eyes, the sun was a little lower in the now-afternoon sky, and she was tucked under a soft blanket. 

Knowing Moira's compulsive work ethic, Angela wasn't surprised to see the walk-in closet full of their clothes, and her few trinkets (a cartoon alarm clock, her hospital pocket watch, a chipped porcelain elephant) already on her side table. She wasn't a materialistic person, never had been. The clock had been a secret santa gift one year, and the elephant had belonged to her mother.

Moira's side table was also decorated; a small stack of books (a philosophical classic, a poetry anthology) and a spare pair of glasses. Angela was pleased to see that the little glass rabbit she had bought her girlfriend for their first anniversary took pride of place next to the lamp. 

Stretching, Angela climbed off the bed, neatly folding the blanket before she made her way through the apartment to the kitchen. As she had suspected, Moira was sitting on the couch, a stack of papers spread across the coffee table, television on, hair falling in her face, open bottle of wine and half-full glass completing the scene. 

"Working already?" The blonde couldn't blame her; she knew the geneticist was taking her new job very seriously. Angela was a little worried about teaching at such a prestigious university, but at least her job wasn't political. 

"I thought I'd make a start while you slept." Moira shrugged, stretching lazily in a way that made her appear remarkably catlike. "I ordered food for delivery, by the way." 

Angela shook her head with a faint smile.   
"I could have cooked something."

"I wanted to let you sleep. You shouldn't have to cook when you're jet lagged, and god knows I don't want to burn the place down." The redhead wrinkled her nose; although Angela often told her to approach cooking like any other science, Moira had never quite gotten the hang of anything beyond basic things. 

Angela leaned over the couch to wrap her arms around her girlfriend, placing a kiss on the other woman's temple. 

"What did you order?" 

"Biryani and falafel. I didn't really know what else to try but those looked great." Moira wasn't exactly brilliant at domesticity, often letting Angela take charge of those things; the blonde was softer than she was, better at the whole 'girlfriend thing', in Moira's opinion. But god, if she didn't try. 

"Sounds great." Angela buried her face in the hair at the nape of her girlfriend's neck, comforted by her familiar scent of a vaguely spicy cologne and hair product.

"I got sweet tea..." it was the one americanised product that both women enjoyed just as much as regular hot tea. 

"You're an angel." 

Moira snorted, tossing the paper she was reading onto the coffee table. 

"I thought that was your schtick." She teased, her accent very slightly mispronouncing the last word. 

"Shut up." Angela teased back, releasing her girlfriend from the hug so she could circle the couch and plop down next to her. Once upon a time, the traded teasing would have had barbs to it. Nowadays it was all done in pure affection. They both certainly preferred it that way. 

"Want some help with this?" Angela eyed the stack of papers, clinical mind and insatiable curiosity already at work. 

"Even if I say no, you'll just do it when I'm asleep, won't you?" 

Angela smirked. 

"I thought so." Moira handed half of the papers to the blonde before standing to retrieve another wineglass. 

It was quite companionable, the pair squashed up comfortably together on the couch, sipping wine and occasionally swapping sheets of paper to be double checked. It was time consuming work, but it passed quickly as they worked together. 

As the sun grew lower in the sky, giving way to a wonderful peach and blush sunset, the doorbell - a real bell on a nice rope outside the door - rang, signalling the arrival of dinner. 

Whilst Angela had been interested in trying out the new kitchen, Moira had been right in assuming neither would want to cook with jet lag. There would be plenty of time once they had settled in to shop locally for produce and making home cooked meals. 

As it was, wherever Moira had ordered the food delivery from, it was excellent, and left the pair feeling sleepy and full. 

As the sunset gave way to a wonderfully clear night, some of the day's heat faded into cool relief. A comedy played in the background on the television; occasionally Moira would chuckle at something that was said, but Angela usually missed the joke; she was still learning to speak Arabic, and was nowhere near as fluent in the spoken language as Moira was, even if she could read and write it quite well. 

With the paperwork mostly completed, the pair ended up lounging together, half paying attention to the television, half absently giving the other affection. Angela loved when Moira had no product in her hair, letting the bright orange strands fall into her face. It made it a lot easier for the younger woman to play with, a habit she had picked up in their early days of dating and had never gotten rid of. 

Moira on the other hand preferred simple touches; linked fingers, a hand on an arm, an arm around a shoulder or waist. She wasn't great at public displays of affection, even when they were alone, but she tried her best. 

She wouldn't admit it, but she liked when Angela held her bad hand, fingertips tracing the overly visible veins lightly. It never felt like a slight to her appearance then, more just something that her girlfriend liked and found interesting about her. The balance Angela brought to her was soothing, in a way. 

"Bees." She said finally, her mind wandering to her new office and the laboratory she had been assigned at the university, "I hope they remembered the bees."

It was a little known fact that the geneticist was fond of animals, rabbits and bees in particular. With such an advanced laboratory, it would be possible to keep a functional, healthy, happy hive in one of the rooms, and Moira had practically jumped at the chance. 

"I'm sure they did." Angela replied, thinking ruefully of her girlfriend's first pet, or rather, the pet she had owned when the pair had first become acquainted. 

"You know honey is a super food, an amazing organic product, no genetic modification required." Moira's interest in the small insects had started with the fact that they were natural scientists themselves, a fact she had learned as a young girl in school. 

"Laboratory hive made honeycomb." Angela said with a faint smile, "sounds pretty good to me." 

She was already half asleep again, more exhausted than she had prior thought, but as she dozed off, her smile grew. It was so nice to see the secret soft spots that her girlfriend worked so hard to hide; had she never considered that they would be better allies than rivals, their relationship would have never developed to this point. It was nice, definitely, to have this level of domesticity. 

Tomorrow, though, they had work to do.


	3. Three: Work Day

The change from practising medicine to teaching it was strange, but after her first class of the day, Angela felt surprisingly confident. It was an interesting feeling, influencing the next generation of the world's best medical practitioners. 

Despite her confidence, she was already on her third coffee of the day. This wasn't an unusual occurrence for her, but she had somewhat hoped that teaching would at least allow her to reduce her daily caffeine intake. Unlikely. 

As she read through her notes, waiting for her second (and last) class for the day, she wondered how her girlfriend's day was going. Political work had to be more strenuous than teaching, Angela decided, unless of course the politics of the day were over and Moira had gone to settle into her new workspace. 

Angela certainly was eager to explore their assigned laboratory, but the day had tired her brain a little; she was keen on the idea of stopping by the market for fresh bread, herbs and vegetables on her way home, to prepare something interesting and tasty for the evening meal. 

The laboratory could wait until her time off tomorrow afternoon, she decided. Her curiosity surrounding the local culture and establishments was far too piqued to be ignored, especially on a day where she wouldn't have to drag Moira around the markets with her. Her counterpart was far too much of a workaholic to appreciate their surroundings, Angela knew. At some point, she hoped the other would have some time off to explore the city with her, but there was little point in dragging her away from important work to do so. That, and Angela doubted she could persuade the other to leave her work just to explore anyway. 

Her second class passed in much similarity to the first; teaching may have been a new experience, but Angela could already tell she far preferred hospital work. As she slid her laptop into its sleek case, she was already considering applying to work at the local hospital. It wasn’t that they wouldn’t take her – her name alone carried a lot of weight in the medical world – more a case of whether she could juggle that and teaching. She couldn’t exactly leave the teaching job; students relied on her now, not to mention she would lose access to the laboratories and vast library if she quit. 

She could consider her work situations later, she decided. It was still too early in the afternoon to call it a day, so, slinging her laptop bag over her shoulder, she headed out into the streets. The bazaar she had seen nearby the apartment complex was still thriving despite the afternoon hour. 

Men in suits sat around tables, smoking from hookahs and drinking tea, some engrossed in avid conversation, others clearly working; one man appeared to be doing his taxes, another taking notes from an online lecture. 

Women in brightly colored scarves littered the streets too; some selling jewellery, others beating dust from intricately patterned carpets. Some kept market stalls, others manned the counter in bakeries. A particularly busy bread shop caught Angela’s eye; the queue went right out the door, spilling into the street. Taking that as a good sign, she joined the waiting group.

By the time she had purchased bread, rice, lentils, herbs and the correct spices from varying market vendors, the afternoon was in its later stages. On her way out, Angela browsed various trinkets and homewares, several items catching her eye. Her sole impulse purchase, however, was a carpet made from brightly colored interwoven fabric. She could picture it beneath the coffee table in the living space of the apartment, and knew that it was interesting enough to be to Moira’s taste in décor. 

After the purchase was finalised and delivery of the carpet arranged, Angela made her way back to the apartment complex, laden down with a paper bag full of her purchases. The cool, air-conditioned climate of the apartment was far preferable to the scorching outside heat. Already far more relaxed in her new home, Angela wasted no time in spreading out her bounty across the kitchen bench tops. She opened her laptop next, searching the internet for recipes. 

Simply having the time to do domestic things made her happy; before they had moved here, there had been little time for such things. The pair had lived on takeout and leftovers, both constantly exhausted from their work. Whilst Angela certainly missed working in a hospital, she did enjoy the fact that she had time to herself now. Of course, that probably would not stop her from applying to work at the local hospital, but she would enjoy the quiet while it lasted. 

 

Moira’s day had been as interesting and productive as Angela’s. She had begun the day with a long meeting, hours spent in a boardroom with the other Ministers, discussing a variety of political and educational matters. It had been enlightening, to say the least. Lunch had been served on shining silver platters in the middle of the table; fruit, bread, all sorts of things that she had never seen before. Angela would know what all of the dishes were, she thought. 

The meeting had finally adjourned, leaving her free to return to her laboratory. Unfortunately it was difficult to really get into anything messy in her work clothes; all Ministers were required to wear a fancy, elegant outfit. Moira would have preferred a lab coat any day, but the outfit was growing on her. 

To her great delight, though, there was indeed a live, healthy beehive in one of the laboratory’s research rooms, as she had requested. She worked better when surrounded or accompanied by some kind of animals. 

Time ran away with her in the laboratory, as it so often did when she was engrossed in an environment she knew and liked. As such, it was early evening when she returned to the apartment, eager to change into something more comfortable than her current attire. 

She had not, of course, expected the entire apartment to be filled with the pleasant aroma of a home-cooked meal. In retrospect, it shouldn’t have surprised her. Angela was always doing things like this; Moira wasn’t sure she would ever be used to the concept of somebody wanting to take care of her. Either way, coming home to a hot meal was nice, a luxury she had never known existed. 

She was eternally grateful for Angela’s love and devotion to a wretch like her. She had never expected anyone to care for her, and the concept was not lost on her, nor taken lightly. She wanted to do something nice for the other woman; she wasn’t sure what, yet, but on her next day off, she resolved to spend the entire day with her girlfriend; to show the blonde how much she truly appreciated her.


	4. Four: Day Off

It was a beautiful day, the precise type that Angela usually insisted be spent outside rather than holed up inside. Given that it was her first full day off in quite a while, Moira was inclined to indulge her. 

The pair strolled arm in arm through one of the city's many bazaars; Angela wore her usual preferred jeans-and-shirt combination, a loose scarf covering some of her hair. Modesty was no longer compulsory in the city of Oasis, but Angela was nothing if not pleased to adhere to cultural customs. 

Moira was dressed a little more simply, in a button-down shirt with rolled up sleeves, and a pair of neatly pressed slacks. It was casual, in comparison to her work attire. She lit a cigarette, pleased when Angela only shot her a disapproving look rather than spoke; that was a good sign, that her girlfriend was in too good of a mood to nag about her health. And besides, the occasional cigarette was nothing in comparison to the heavy hookah smoke that filled the air whenever they passed a smoking lounge. 

She would have very much liked to try the heavily scented tobacco, but knew the health problems associated were far too high to risk. Even higher was the almost guaranteed ire of her girlfriend. For a pair of questionable scientists, they truly did fuss over the other's health. That was the beauty and nature of a partnership, Moira supposed. 

"Oh, look!" 

Following her girlfriend's gaze, Moira was pleasantly surprised to see a merchant selling animals; a few goats, geese, chickens, even smaller animals like rabbits and mice. 

There were few things Moira liked more in the world than the comfort of a small, domestic animal. When she had been a teenager, she had owned a straggly orange cat, but as she grew older, rabbits had been her go-to. Small, clean, and able to be kept in smaller living spaces like apartments, every laboratory she had worked in, she had had either a rat or a bunny as a companion animal. 

It was the one thing their new home was missing, and Angela knew it. Therefore it came to absolutely no surprise when her girlfriend practically dragged her over to examine the animals. It was cute, seeing the usually stoic older woman excited over animals, especially small, fuzzy ones. 

Angela lingered in the background while Moira fussed over the flock of animals; it wasn't that the younger woman wasn't fond of animals - she was - she just preferred larger animals, like cats or dogs. Saying that, she liked seeing the redhead happy, and she most certainly was in this moment. 

 

An hour later, the pair had installed a large rabbit hutch in the main room of the apartment, Angela carefully laying down straw whilst Moira fed their new friend pieces of carrot. 

"Don't tell me this one's name is Better Angela, too," the blonde teased; it was still somewhat of a sore patch, back from the days where they had loathed one another, been ignorant to how well they could work together, before they had fallen in love. 

"Of course not," Moira snorted, "that would be an insult to the Best Angela - you." The redhead pressed a kiss to her very pleased girlfriend's forehead, "this rabbit's name is Curie, after the scientist." 

"Real smooth," Angela was grinning anyway, "why don't you get her settled while I work? I have a dozen papers to grade before tonight." The blonde pulled a face. 

"Just pass them all with an average." Moira rolled her eyes, "I doubt anything will be outstanding at junior level." 

"You're a harsh critic," Angela teased, flopping down into one of the armchairs, pulling her laptop towards her. 

"Well then, your students are lucky they have you teaching them, not me." Moira shrugged, turning her attention back to the grey and white spotted rabbit in her lap. Angela smiled. 

"I don't know, they'd probably learn a lot from you." The blonde complimented. 

"A lot of illegal things, maybe." 

"Yes, well," Angela pursed her lips, "I've always known how to toe the line."

"You mean cover your tracks?" Moira snorted, recalling their Overwatch days. 

"Precisely." Angela didn't need to look up to know that her girlfriend was rolling her eyes. 

"You'll get the hang of it, eventually." 

"Why bother, we have far greater powers behind us now." Moira scratched her new friend idly behind her floppy ears.

"You can't get complacent," Angela reminded her, "Talon won't clean up all our messes." 

"You're right on that one, pet." Moira agreed, "but our acquaintance with such an organisation is beneficial, you can't deny." 

"I don't deny it," Angela agreed as she corrected the sentence structure of the first paper, "I'm just telling you to be careful. I don't want you to go to jail." 

"Sweetling, you know if either of us went to jail, Akande would have us out in no time. Science is valuable, even to a warlords." Moira understood her girlfriend's fear, though, "don't worry so much, love. We have Oasis and Talon behind us." 

"My only concern is what they want our research for," Angela told her, "do no harm, but for the greater good, remember." The blonde reminded the older woman. 

"And say this is the greater good?"

"I wouldn't have followed you here if I didn't think it was." Angela replied, effectively ending the conversation; Moira couldn't argue with that. She knew Angela still struggled with moral conundrums occasionally, but by god, had she come far from the over-worried, far too by-the-book medic she had met years ago. 

With the pair united, however, Moira was certain that anything could be done. 

"Shall I cook something?"

"By cook, you mean get food delivered, don't you?" Angela wrinkled her nose. 

"Naturally. I would rather not burn this place down." Moira was already scanning her phone for nearby restaurants; Angela would never trust her to cook anything beyond eggs, nor would she trust herself to do so. 

Setting her phone aside, Moira stood, briefly crossing to the refrigerator to retrieve another carrot for Curie and a bottle of sweet tea for Angela. 

Assessing the room from her standing point, Moira couldn't help but feel rather pleased with herself; important job, wonderful home, beautiful, adoring girlfriend. Yes. She was a lucky wretch indeed.


	5. Five: Overworked

Moira yawned, running her good hand through her hair. It had been a long day, or rather, felt like it had been a long day already, and it was only mid-morning. 

She had been at the laboratory from an early hour, canvas satchel full of a couple of cans of energy drinks and a pastry to keep her going for a few hours. She was already coming down from the sugar rush, though, and wished Angela was there with her to check over her work. 

That in itself was rather uncharacteristic; often, Moira preferred her girlfriend keep out from under her feet, not usually a fan of the blonde woman picking apart her work. Today, however, she was so exhausted that she could have used the help. 

It was quite likely that her lack of sleep was catching up with her; often she worked herself into the ground, burning out after weeks or months of consistent breakthrough. With Talon breathing down her neck for new technology and potential bioweapons, she didn't have time to sleep properly. 

Of course, she could just bring Angela in on the project. That in itself was risky; she knew her girlfriend was still a little precious about her reputation, and it was true that keeping her record clean would help if Moira was ever caught doing anything particularly shady. But at the same time, these particular ideas just weren't becoming clear to her; of course, she had a good idea of where to start, but actually putting the ideas into reality was becoming a struggle. 

Muttering irritably under her breath, she dug her canvas satchel out from under her desk, fishing in it for her phone. 

\---

Angela's class had been cancelled; she had had surgery to attend before dawn, and they hadn't managed to get a substitute in time. From what she had heard, none of her students seemed to mind the day off, either congregating in the campus' vast library, or bailing on the idea of studying altogether, instead heading off to the city's indoor beach. 

She envied the latter group; the indoor beach was always the perfect temperature, the ideal beach climate without the worry of sharks or jellyfish. Unfortunately, given the very recent - as in ten minutes prior - phone call from her girlfriend, Angela had yet more work to do. 

She stopped by the closest coffee shop to the laboratory location, purchasing the largest cappuccino with two extra shots physically possible. It was still dangerously close to burning her fingers when she punched in the elevator code, waiting for the sleek stainless steel and glass machine to take her down to the laboratory. 

Moira's idea of a greeting was to press a hasty kiss to her forehead, practically yank the hot caffeine from her fingertips, and replace the paper cup with a stack of paperwork. 

Not the best greeting, Angela decided, but also not the worst she had received from the redhead. Leaving her girlfriend huddled over her coffee like Gollum and the Ring, the blonde skimmed the papers that had been hastily stuffed into her hands. 

They were more like blueprints, ideas for a new way of utilising nanotechnology in the field, only for less savoury operations. Fishing a red pen from her pocket, Angela re-arranged a few sentences, sketching a few arrows to demonstrate the changes in the drawing design. 

"This make more sense?" 

The redhead surveyed the drawing and swore under her breath; clearly it had been a simple error, corrected easily by a fresh perspective. 

"When was the last time you slept?" Angela's arms crossed, expression souring as her girlfriend squinted in thought. 

"I dunno. Two? Three? Days ago?"

"Home. Now." 

"I need to get this finished." Moira protested, "they're waiting on this design so they can get it built." 

"I'll finish it. Go home, before you drop." Angela rolled her eyes, already placing the corrected blueprints into the scanner. The tech was clearly meant for one of their Talon associates, but she didn't doubt that one of said associates could probably build the prototype with the information contained. 

"Don't forget to encrypt it." 

"Do you take me for an amateur?" Angela was already feeding the blueprints through the encryption; she doubted anyone but Sombra would be able to unscramble the code. 

"Not always." The redhead acquiesced, watching as the shorter woman finished the process. 

"Hopefully they'll find something useful in that. It's not all the tech they want, but this sort of technique will prove useful for them." Angela shrugged; she knew the pressure on her girlfriend was quite high, with their associates in Talon demanding technology to keep up with their varying schemes. 

It wasn't that they couldn't keep up - between the pair of them, they could keep Talon in healing and offensive technology for years. The issue Angela took - ethics aside - was how hard they worked Moira. The older woman clearly couldn't tell when she was burning out until it happened, but Angela worried about her. 

It took them a while to shut down all the laboratory equipment; between them, though, they were back on the surface, sliding into the backseat of their waiting car. Angela wasn't sure what their omnic driver did all day, aside from waiting for Moira, but they didn't seem particularly fussed or put out. 

\---

Angela was enormously glad to be home; she needed a hot shower after surgery and the claustrophobia of being underground in the lab. 

"I'm going to shower," she informed Moira; the redhead was still finishing her coffee, a little out of it. 

Within the ten minutes it took her to shower, scrubbing under her fingernails and washing out her hair, she didn't expect Moira to be asleep, but it was in that state she found her when she returned from the bathroom; the redhead was curled up on their bed, empty coffee cup on the nightstand. 

Angela sighed, fetching a clean blanket from the linen closet, tucking it around her girlfriend before heading into the kitchen. At the very least, she could prepare something home made for the evening meal, as a surprise for when Moira awoke.


	6. Six: Bees In The Biodome

What Moira thought could be slept off overnight turned into three days off work; she was more exhausted than she had originally considered, and once she'd slept through the afternoon and late into the evening, she only felt marginally better. 

Angela had been marvellous, though, leaving food in the refrigerator that only needed heating up, and plenty of iced water; the redhead found herself awake long enough to eat a solid meal, get a bottle of water down her, and then she was back out like a light. 

She knew that nothing was severely wrong with her, simply because Angela hadn't taken her to the hospital; Angela was right, in that respect - she was simply overworked and exhausted. A few days off, mostly spent asleep, and proper meals rather than pastries and caffeine, did her the world of good. 

That wasn't to say she didn't feel a little bad, though. Doubtlessly, Angela would be picking up the slack for her down in the laboratory as well as her hospital shifts, if only to keep the rest of the Talon council from breathing down their necks about work ethic. 

That in itself was annoying enough to give Moira a headache; between herself and Angela, they kept their Talon associates in medicine and the latest weaponry, modifying designs usually borrowed with Sombra's five finger discount, applied to anything from large corporations to small military organisations. 

Either way, the redhead was eager to get back to work, even if she had duly appreciated the time off. Of course, she would never admit that she had enjoyed the few days rest - Moira was a notoriously hard worker, more of a workaholic than even Angela could keep up with at times. 

Whereas Angela liked to focus on things that balanced out - do no harm, but for the greater good - Moira would hyperfocus on anything that interested her, ethical or moral conundrums aside. Her current project was more for fun, whilst she awaited further developments from Talon. Undoubtedly Sombra would want her translocator modified again, or the mediocre doctors on the base wouldn't be able to keep the Widowmaker in her conditioned state. 

Until then, however, she had her bees. The common honeybee population had declined rapidly, particularly during the crisis. She was working on a new genetic strain, a tweak to the cellular makeup of the common bee that would help them resist pollution and constant global climatic change. 

It was a very neutral project, admittedly, certainly not her usual style, but her love for animals and overwhelming curiosity regarding the environment had prompted her further. Her genetically modified bees had been integrated into societies all over the globe; partially, it had been the bees that had gotten her the job offer within Oasis.

She kept a hive - the original hive - in one of her laboratory eco-rooms, their presence calming, a reminder that not everything she did was detrimental. That sometimes science really did produce happy results. Thanks to her, future generations of humans and omnics alike would enjoy the presence of bees, and the taste of honey. 

Despite being a vegetarian, herself, Moira still enjoyed the harvesting side of beekeeping, seeing very little ethically wrong with consuming the excess honey produced by the hive. She knew that her bees were treated well, and that therefore, the honey was ethically sourced. She had missed them, while she was away. 

Angela had found the fact that Moira didn't particularly enjoy including meat in her diet odd at first- the redhead had no issue using humans as test subjects, after all. As it turned out, the older woman had once tested her ideas on animals, but after a rather traumatic result, had sworn off the idea, and even the consumption of meat in her lifestyle. 

Angela could respect that, and had even made the diet switch too. Sometimes she missed the cheese sausages and steak pot stews she had grown up with, but she was happy to eat ethically, too. Whenever she was away on work business, though, she would occasionally treat herself to a non-vegetarian meal, knowing that Moira certainly wouldn't chastise her for it. 

She liked that about the redhead; that there was never any lifestyle shaming between them. That the other's decisions, whilst sometimes questioned, were always respected. It was one of the reasons their partnership worked so very well, that they simply were two sides of one coin. 

Moira was examining the health level of the hive in general when her secondary comm - a discreet earpiece - began to ring. She had expected this, of course, and had thus kept the comm in despite her being in full beekeeping gear. 

"I'm working." She was only mildly irritated at being interrupted; the call came from a secure line, and that usually meant Sombra. 

"Aw, well too bad, I have something for you."

"Did you break your translocator again?" Moira wished she could pinch the bridge of her nose in this suit. 

"Uh... maybe? But that's not why I'm calling. We'll be sending the asset down to you. She needs... I dunno, I couldn't understand the doc. Just be ready."

"Do you have an ETA?" Moira was already leaving the bee room, in the process of removing the heavy suit. 

"Dunno, doc, couple hours? They had to sedate her. Expect armed guard, I'm coming along for the ride." The younger woman sounded tense; Moira wondered what could possibly have rattled her, but it was clearly important, if they were sending the asset to her. 

"Right. I'll get backup down here." By which she meant Angela, possibly the only other doctor in the world familiar with the condition they had created together. 

"Good idea." 

"Sombra?" Moira could practically hear the hacker biting her nails, a nervous habit. 

"Yeah, doc?" 

"Bring the translocator. I'll repair it for you while she's in recovery." The least she could do, really. 

"Thanks doc." 

"Yeah, yeah." Moira sighed, switching off the call, securing the bioscience sector of her lab and turning to her holoscreen, preparing for the emergency arrival. Angela was already on speed dial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't believe how weirdly popular this has become? Thanks for all the support! :3


	7. Seven: Asset Interrupted

Angela wasn't entirely sure what to expect, only that if Talon was sending the asset to them, that it must be something urgent. Even more so if Moira was calling her in before she even arrived. 

She just hoped whatever damage - if any, of course - wasn't too complex to fix. Another full psychological rewiring could potentially have devastating repercussions, if done wrong. Of course, it was highly unlikely that between them, they would make an error, but Angela was realistically cautious, where Moira was overconfident in everything. 

Admittedly, Moira hadn't expected the omnic heavies that arrived with their new charge; she threw Sombra a foul look as the hacker sauntered out after, seemingly unconcerned by the woman suspended in the tank - more like a glass coffin - being carried between them. 

"Don't look at me," Sombra shook her head, "I would have brought her myself, but the idiots in the infirmary-" 

"Enough said." Moira scowled, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers; the mediocre idiots Talon had scrounged up to be their medics were one of the biggest banes of her existence. Of course, she couldn't expect them to keep up with the things she could do, or even with Angela. Not even when they worked together. 

She supposed, on that logic, she shouldn't be so surprised that Talon had simply chosen to send the asset directly to her supervision. 

\---

Angela hadn't been entirely prepared for the heavy presence in the laboratory upon her arrival; the pair of omnics guarding their charge were enormous, as tall as Moira and solidly built, intended to intimidate; they were almost statues, guarding the door in silence. 

Moira took all the room's energy, already hard at work on their subject; Angela would never be used to the purple hue of the asset's skin. 

She hadn't expected their third guest, though - Sombra, sitting on one of the empty bench tops, swinging her legs and fiddling with an object Angela recognised at once as her translocation device. She supposed the younger woman had come along for the ride, either out of concern for the asset or simply to have her tech fixed again. That wasn't Angela's division; the nanotech inside the device was more on frequency with Moira's creations than her own. 

That being said, she turned her attention to the slowly draining glass tank. The panel on the front displayed steady vitals, which, at least, was one good thing. Hopefully, it would mean less work for the pair. The last thing either Angela or Moira wanted to have to do was a full recondition. 

 

Thankfully, it soon became apparent that that would not be the case; a series of basic psychological tests reinforced the integrity of the conditioning - thankfully, it appeared to have just been a slip, a brief crack in the flawless method they had developed. 

Another dose of the drug Angela had spent months developing under Moira's guidance would probably solve any issues with the asset, but Angela was glad they'd brought her in nonetheless. It was always best to be on the safe side, and the last thing they wanted would be the asset escaping control. Having the most dangerous assassin in the world out of containment wasn't a concern that Angela wanted or needed. 

It would be even worse for Moira; she had worked the hardest on the asset, overseeing the transition from prisoner to ally. Should the conditioning fail, doubtless Talon would place the blame square onto her. 

They would need to find a stronger solution to repressing memories if this happened again, Angela mused as she hooked an IV bag full of dark purple liquid onto the stand, connecting the needle to the port and watching the fluid stream in slowly. 

"This should keep her lucid, capable of following orders, but not of much independence beyond that." Angela reported; Moira was reading something on her clipboard - possibly an incident report.

"Another round of electroshock might do her the world of good. The memory loss associated might work in our favor." The redhead was already retrieving the kit, outdated in most things but for psychological reconditioning. 

"In combination with the drugs? Possibly." Angela wondered briefly what they must look like from the perspective of an outsider; like monsters, probably, mad scientists. Sometimes she had to twist the situation to find it palatable, herself. 

"Move her hair, would you?" Moira was always sharp when they worked, even more so when the asset was involved; she wanted to be precise, leave no corner unturned. 

Angela moved dark purple hair from the asset's scalp, tying it out the way with a spare elastic from her pocket. 

"Load the second bag while this charges." The redhead's brisk tone didn't change as she fixed the pads into place. Angela did as she was told; this had always been Moira's project, she was more of an assistant, making improvements where she could. 

She loaded the second bag onto the IV stand, this time full of a bright yellow liquid; that always struck her as more sinister than the other. 

\---

They worked in silence for almost an hour, inducing the asset into unconsciousness before turning her back over to her waiting bodyguards; Angela monitored her vitals whilst Moira tinkered with the translocator Sombra had brought. 

It was only prudent, to make sure the asset didn't die on them the moment they released her back into Talon operations. 

"Keep her sedated. Don't try to wake her. Let her wake naturally." Moira instructed, "and monitor her. Anything unusual, and you bring her right back." 

"Obviously." Sombra turned her repaired technology between gloved fingers, "anything else doc?" 

"Tell Reyes he's due for a check soon." Moira sighed, "the last thing we need is this entire organisation falling apart because none of you want medical assistance." 

"Gotcha." Sombra pulled a face, "I guarantee he'll love being told he needs a medical. I'll tell him anyway, though. Thanks for the repairs." 

"Keep her out of trouble, Sombra." Angela cut into the conversation firmly, "we can't simply replace assets like her." 

"Got it, doc." Sombra waved a goodbye, following the omnic heavies and their charge onto the hover carrier that had delivered them. 

\---

Once their guests departed, Moira turned to face Angela; they were in the process of retiring home for the night, finally, and the redhead worried minutely for her girlfriend. 

"Are you alright? I know it's never easy for you, working on her." 

"I just try to tell myself they're not the same person. The asset isn't the woman I once knew." Angela chewed her thumbnail awkwardly. 

"I know for a long time Gérard and Amélie Lacroix were your friends, Angela. But you must remember, your friend is gone."

"I know. It's just strange, seeing her face on someone else. She was my friend once. Now she's just... a shell."

"Understandably." Moira agreed; she knew it must be a strange feeling. "But you understand, in turn, yes?"

"She was a necessary creation," Angela agreed, "regardless of former personal attachment. It had to happen."

"Very good." The redhead secured the laboratory as they left together. "What was it you said once? Last time?"

"It's not like working on a friend anymore," Angela admitted, "not like the beginning. She's done so many things. Her life may as well be a forfeit. She's a killer now. A living weapon. Working on her is like any other weapon or experiment." 

Moira shot the shorter woman a smug look as they emerged onto the lamp-lit streets. Even at night, the city of Oasis was practical, the street lamps solar powered. 

"How far you've come, from when we first met."

The blonde pulled a face. 

"You were right." She shrugged, "my ethics held me back. We may not have moral superiority, but all evidence points to us doing the right thing."

"How very cliche." Moira yawned, "it's so good to be bad, and all that." 

"Shut up." Angela pulled another face; the taller woman had a good point, of course, but she was too tired to indulge her girlfriend's theatrics. 

"You know I'm right." The redhead yawned again; she was certainly looking forward to a long sleep. Working on such strenuous things always exhausted her, and the widowmaker project always took her full attention whenever a situation arose. 

"Be that as it may." Angela placed her hand onto the scanner to let them into the apartment building lobby, "I'm too tired for a battle of wits." 

"Not even one in jest, pet?" Moira teased as they waited for the elevator

"Not even." Angela rubbed at her neck, "I'm going to need so much coffee to get through the morning." 

"You haven't even been called in yet." Moira reassured her, "and if they do, I'm sure I can find time in my busy schedule to bring my suffering angel a cappuccino." 

Angela managed a smile at that; she hooked her hand onto the other woman's elbow as they approached their apartment door. 

"A strong one?"

"With hazelnuts." The redhead assured, letting them into the apartment; the door opening dimmed Angela's quiet reply, but it was doubtless something of gratitude. 

The blonde was far too tired to speak, let alone even douse herself in a warm shower; she barely registered changing from her hospital scrubs into a button down shirt pilfered from Moira, let alone the exact moment her head hit the pillow. Doubtless, she was out like a light the moment it did. 

Moira was just as exhausted, but habit saw her forcing one foot forward until she was immersed in the warm water of the shower cubicle. Of course the laboratory was sterile, but a shower after a workday was habitual and calming to her. 

Once she was satisfied with her state of cleanliness, she changed into the pajamas Angela had gifted her a short while back - pale blue, patterned with white rabbits. Her last stop was Curie's hutch, into which she deposited a fresh carrot after checking the water freshness. 

Satisfied that her companion animal would be safe and cozy overnight, her shoulders aching from working all day, the redhead collapsed onto the soft bed beside Angela, wrapping her good arm around the blonde, already soothed into half-sleep by her presence.


	8. Eight: Holiday Special (Part 1)

It was strange; of course, it didn't snow in the desert, Angela knew, but the distinct lack of even a cold day wasn't something she was used to. Especially given the time of year; it was certainly strange to see festive decorations everywhere, unaccompanied by at least three feet of snow. 

It was odd for Moira, too; she was used to freezing cold days, boiling hot cocoa, a heavily piled fireplace. It was odd, seeing Christmas trees and wreaths in a city without snow, where the temperature comfortably soared into the hundred Fahrenheit range. 

The holiday season had crept up on them, that was for certain. They had been so busy, settling into their new roles, not to mention the recent problem with the Widowmaker asset, that they had scarcely had time to pay attention to the time of year. 

Thankfully, the city of Oasis was diverse in cultural population, and so it was easy to obtain holiday decorations at the last minute. This, admittedly, was more Angela's doing than Moira's. The redhead wasn't particularly fussed when it came to festive decorations, but she had to admit, her girlfriend had done a nice job with the place. 

There was something decidedly homely and comforting about a lit-up Christmas tree, a wreath on the front door, and a smattering of festive lights hung like icicles from their bedroom ceiling. Not to mention the vast amount of baking; every day when Moira returned from her laboratory, it was to the smell of something fresh-baked. 

Gingerbread, pretzels, German Christmas cake, sugar cookies... the older woman at least had plenty of food to take with her to the laboratory - often she would neglect eating if it was something she would have to prepare, thus wasting time. This sort of thing, she could just pull out of a paper bag and eat while she worked. 

Admittedly, and Moira wouldn't admit it, not out loud anyway, it was nice to have someone around during the holiday season, someone to actually spend the holidays with, not to mention someone who actually made effort to take care of her. Naturally, Moira could take care of herself, barely wanting or needing human contact. Angela was the exception to her prickly nature, and the holiday season softened her a little. 

Knowing the sort of things that Angela was capable of when she put her mind to it, it was strange to see her sitting cross-legged on the apartment floor, diligently wrapping and tying bows around gifts to be donated to charity for the holiday season. There was little point in commenting on it, though; the irony of the situation probably wasn't lost on Angela, and the redhead didn't want to ruin her girlfriend's mood. 

Still, she was glad the younger woman was occupied, as it gave her time to sneak off under the guise of having last minute work to do. In actual fact, she had last minute shopping to do. There was already a small pile of gifts amassed under the Christmas tree, all tagged with her name in neat print. There were a few little, lumpy packages that they had worked on together - doubtless they were hand knitted clothes that would fit a rabbit. 

Moira had been so busy, though, that she had left gift shopping for Angela until the very last minute. This would be fine, if she knew what to actually buy for her. The blonde wasn't a materialistic person, never had been. She never wore much jewellery, and what she did wear was simple and easily missed. Clothing was also a risk; with the amount of time spent in laboratories and hospitals, there was a high chance she'd never wear anything Moira bought her. 

Be that as it may, in their line of work, there was plenty of money, and Moira was determined to spend a fair amount of it on Angela. Of course, she would buy gifts that had little meaning - chocolates, clothing, perfume - but she hoped to find a few things that held a little more significance. 

Her first stop was a perfumery that Angela often admired; dozens of glittering bottles stood out to her, adorned with various ties and ribbons. This really wasn't her territory; Moira barely wore any scent, and her choice was usually from the men's department, or as neutral scents as possible. Angela preferred florals, or spices, things that came in bottles labeled in languages Moira knew but didn't understand in this case. 

Thankfully, Angela had mentioned a company she favoured had released a new scent, so Moira asked for that one (possibly mispronouncing the Italian brand name), and a bottle of the lemon vanilla scent that Angela usually wore on a day-to-day basis. That was more practical based, but, Moira rationed, if her girlfriend didn't like the new scent, at least she would have a good supply of her favourite. 

The redhead was definitely, definitely overthinking. But this was their first Christmas together, living together and exchanging proper gifts. She was mildly concerned that she would mess it up somehow, not to mention determined to spoil the younger woman rotten. 

The department store put her more at ease; choosing clothes for Angela was much, much easier than the perfumery. She knew what sort of things the blonde liked, and so it was easy to find jeans, sweaters, and blouses in the right colour schemes and sizes. 

She almost walked past the sleepwear department, but a pair of pajamas caught her eyes; silk, printed with zoo animals, precisely the goofy sort of pajamas that she and her girlfriend adored. Deciding on those and a pair of fuzzy slippers, the redhead was satisfied with her purchases. She stopped only by the confectionary counter on her way out, ending up only browsing their selection. 

She must have taken longer in the department store than first realised; it was coming into late afternoon as she left the large building. On her way back through the shopping district, she browsed various shop windows, nothing particularly catching her eye, until she reached a small jewellery store, tucked away on a corner. 

The bracelet was unusual, a thin yet oddly solid piece, fashioned to look like a stethoscope, the end twisted into a heart where it clasped the 'earpieces'. It was clever, so very clever, and so, so Angela. The price tag was hefty, but Moira didn't care. She would work double time, if she had to, and she would never, ever tell her girlfriend how much it cost, but there was no way she was going to walk past that. 

Ten minutes later, she was in the elevator in the apartment building, whistling to herself, the newly purchased bracelet snug in a box in her suit jacket. 

God, she just hoped she had chosen the right sort of gifts; she didn't want Angela to be disappointed or anything like that. Knowing Angela, she wouldn't be, but Moira was fussing, rather uncharacteristically, about this. She just wanted everything to go well and perfect, she supposed.

Angela was still preoccupied with something or other, which left Moira the perfect opportunity to sneak into their bedroom to begin wrapping gifts. Hopefully she could manage to get it all done before Angela came in to inevitably speak to her.


	9. Nine: Holiday Special (Part Two)

Christmas Eve through to the twenty-sixth of December would be the only block of holiday time that the pair would have off, aside of course from New Year's Day. With Moira having left her shopping until the very last minute - being the twenty-third - it was nice to wake up on Christmas Eve morning and place a large pile of gifts for Angela beneath the tree. 

Of course, they wouldn't exchange gifts until the evening, but it still looked nice, to see both sides of the tree stacked up with small piles of gifts. Moira found herself feeling surprisingly festive, although perhaps that was simply because she was looking forward to the time off, not to mention the amazing food that Angela would doubtless prepare for the holiday. Angela's cooking could cure any lack of appetite in Moira's case, and she was damn thankful for it. 

Not to mention, it was sort of nice, seeing their usually pristine apartment decorated for the occasion. It wasn't too over the top, either, like some of their American associates were bound to do. Moira had always felt uncomfortable when celebrating Christmas with the Blackwatch crew; going into the common area had been like stepping into a cheesy nineties Christmas movie, the sort of thing Moira's parents had watched.

Around the afternoon, the pair settled down on the couch to watch the aforementioned movies; they were far before either woman's time, but still enjoyable - classics like Home Alone, The Santa Clause, Die Hard - the first two were more children's movies, but the pair found them relaxing, throwaway films that they didn't have to pay solid attention to. 

It was nice to just sit around, spending time together just relaxing, without any work to focus on. It wasn't often that the pair were lazy, let alone their schedules lining up to allow them to be lazy together. The holiday season thankfully provided a perfect opportunity. 

"Presents." Moira said finally, halfway into Doctor Seuss' 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas'. Angela nodded, eagerly hopping off the couch to retrieve a few packages for Moira; the blonde had been buzzing to give her girlfriend her gifts all day, so now the time was actually here, she was excited. She just hoped what she had bought aligned with Moira's tastes. 

When each had a sufficient pile of presents before them, separating them almost, they settled into comfortable silence, taking turns opening gifts. 

Moira went first, simply because Angela was sitting there staring at her, very clearly waiting for her to open a gift first. That was fine with her, especially when the wrapped box turned out to contain a brand new silk tie; it was dark purple, Moira's favorite shade, the specific tie cut that she favoured too. 

Her favourite, of all the things Angela gifted her, was a pin designed to fit to her ties, a solid gold honeybee. The redhead did not favour jewellery beyond occasional earrings, but this particular decoration was right up her alley. She just hoped, then, that Angela would like the bracelet, sitting carefully in the still-wrapped box in the blonde's hands. 

Angela was curious about the contents of the little box, that was for sure. She had been gifted perfume and clothes, salted toffees from an expensive confectionary booth, a pair of silk hair ribbons, soft pajamas with an adorable print... she couldn't possibly think of anything more that her girlfriend could give her; they had both gone far too overboard in spoiling one another, she was certain. 

Beneath immaculate silver paper, the box was a plain black velvet. Jewellery, then? That in itself surprised Angela; she never wore much, but moreso she was surprised that Moira had chosen to gift her with something like this. Whatever "this" was. 

As soon as she opened the box, though, she understood why. The bracelet was solid, definitely made of something far more expensive than silver or even white gold, shaped like a stethoscope curled round, part of it twisted to resemble a heart shape. 

"I know it's sort of tacky," Moira admitted almost sheepishly, "but it reminded me so much of you."

"It's perfect." Angela enthused, and it really truly was. She had never been particularly excited or interested by jewellery, but this was entirely different. The fact that Moira had chosen it not for its value or to show off, but because of its unusual design and the fact that it reminded her of Angela, that made its sentimental value of utmost importance. Angela was nothing if not damn sentimental. 

She had to get the redhead to help her attach it to her wrist, but once it settled there - it was quite light, despite being sturdily made - Angela never quite wanted to take it off again. 

Moira had hoped the younger woman would like the bracelet; seeing Angela so happy wearing it made her even happier in turn. If this was what spending a holiday with a girlfriend meant, then she would gladly sign up for this every year, if it meant she could give Angela presents and make her happy. 

"Don't go all soft on me." Angela grinned at her, blue eyes all too sharp. 

"Wouldn't dream of it." Moira grinned back.

"Good, because the food is cooked and I don't know if mush piles can eat." The blonde teased, on the verge of laughter. 

"This mush pile certainly can." Moira snorted, hauling herself off the couch to help herself to pie. Yes, the redhead thought rather smugly, she could get used to spending holidays like this.


	10. Ten: Back To Work

With the holiday season over, Moira was more than glad to get back to work. The holidays were more Angela’s thing than hers, and while she would celebrate and tolerate for the blonde’s sake, the fact that they were over was a relief. She much preferred being closeted away in her lab, and with nothing stopping her from doing so, she found herself quite content. 

 

Whilst Angela enjoyed the holidays, it was true, she too was glad to be back to work. The rarity and shortness of holidays made them special; she certainly wouldn’t have wanted one every day. Be that as it may, it was nice to have someone to celebrate them with, even if Moira’s participation was reluctant at best, sheer pandering to her seeming more likely. The blonde was grateful for Moira’s tolerance and soft spots where she was concerned, that was for sure. 

 

It was nice to be back in the hospital, where Angela felt most useful. It made her feel as though there was a counterbalance, between her work for Talon and saving lives. In her own mind, that was a justification. She couldn’t possibly be all bad if she was still saving lives, now, could she? 

 

It was a poor justification, a miserable excuse, and she knew it. There was little point in discussing it with Moira, though. The redhead would simply encourage her to embrace the fact that she was no longer a shining beacon of morality. Angela had spent so long building herself up to be such that the idea of letting the image go was harder than first expected. 

 

It was much easier to pretend. The alternative, fully embracing the complexity and grey area of her own morality, Angela wasn’t quite prepared for just yet. She wanted a little while longer to pretend, although the recent incident regarding the Widowmaker asset had made this particularly difficult. 

 

There was absolutely no way that Angela could claim she hadn’t been involved, especially not to herself. Without a doubt, had she not been involved, the asset wouldn’t have been so successfully conditioned. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t moral, but Angela couldn’t help be proud of it anyway. Such conditioning was a global first, a pioneer in living weaponry. It was wrong, of course, but actual criminals could undergo similar processes, either to be rehabilitated or used as weapons, too. 

It was shady, and if it fell into the wrong hands - implying, of course, that it wasn’t already - it could be terribly damaging. But it was progress. Moira would call it that, not to mention the implications on rewriting genetics. 

Angela knew she simply needed to let her over-ethical old self go. It certainly was high time. The Angela who had cared so much for everyone around her had disappeared long ago. People were temporary. Friends, allies, all disposable. Science, though? Discovery? Progress in medicine? Permanent, and they would pave her name in history books forever. For too long, her work – and Moira’s – had been swept under the rug. Covered up, worked on in secret. Moira had already faced the consequences once, taking the blame for their less-than-stellar work. Blackwatch had been a little more forgiving. Only just. Angela was done with people like that. Science. Science, medicine, and Moira. Those were the only things that mattered. The only permanent objects in Angela’s orbit. It had taken her far too long to realise this.

The Widowmaker asset was possibly her greatest work. Of course, it was a collaboration – most of her best work was – but she had still been crucial to it. Of course Moira had been right all along, but it had taken such an experience to convince the blonde; there was power behind science, and with moral red tape stripped back, there was nothing to stop them. With Overwatch failed and gone, who was to say what would shape the world now. Perhaps her discoveries – if she truly pushed herself – could help shape that new world. Guide towards peace, or at least some kind of stalemate. 

That in itself seemed unlikely- Talon was gearing for a war, and they weren’t the only ones. No longer concerned with being on the ‘right’ side, however, Angela would continue her research. Anything she or Moira created would go to the victors – or the highest bidder – and they would sit quite comfortably. Maybe once the fighting started, Angela would return to the field, just to make a show of trying. Unnecessary casualties were so wasteful. 

Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it made her one of the ‘bad guys’. Angela no longer cared. Her focus was the future of medicine and science for humanity. If everyone wanted another crisis, that wasn’t her concern. She only cared about ensuring a future for whoever was left. That, she supposed, was part of the ethos of the city of Oasis. No wonder she fit in so well here. No wonder nobody had complained when Moira brought her. The city of Oasis alone would keep humanity going. Her future was with them; it would be unwise to give any further thought to her past with Overwatch. 

Idle hands made her reminiscent though; she almost hoped something would go wrong with the asset, or that Reyes would stop by for something she could help with. Hell, she’d even take Sombra annoying her for something to do. Moira was occupied with a Cabinet Of The Ministries meeting, to which Angela was not privy. As such, the blonde was extremely bored. Toying with and tuning up her own equipment provided little mental stimulation – her caduceus staff was in impeccable condition, as always. 

When bored, Angela became petulant, like a caged animal. Pacing the apartment was too boring, going out was unpleasant without Moira’s company, and the blonde was far too agitated to cook anything, for now. Her churning thoughts had given her an irritated cloud over everything. She almost hoped the hospital would call her in for something, but doubted they would. House calls were an option, of course, but not in her present state of mind. 

She settled on sweeping the apartment for bugs. Whilst it was unlikely any enemies had planted anything, it was still wise to check. Besides, the likelihood of Sombra bugging their apartment for fun was striking. Angela supposed if the hacker really wanted to spy on them, they would never find the bugs. The blonde theorised that the younger woman simply enjoyed annoying them, Moira specifically. 

That was fine by her. At least it gave her something to do.


End file.
